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Photograph

Looking at photographs Those people are dead. Not lying in graves or Powdered to ashes but Gone none the less.

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Posted in Dodgson, Poetry

Cling Film

quill

Oh for a world Where I could still afford To hate boiled broccoli; Where the rice pudding And cheese-sauce taste The same; Where the path to the playground Is a hot concrete road And the smell of warm rain Unfallen

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Posted in Dodgson, Poetry